Armageddon?? (56 page)

“Will
you look at those mothers. Never seen anything like them before.” Baldy was using
his gunner’s sight to look at the scene. “Big, aren’t they?”

“Big.”
Stevenson spoke agreeably. “As big as the ones who started this whole mess off.
That means they will take a battering before they go down. How many hits did
that one outside Moscow take?”

“Most
of a tank battalion so I heard. But then they didn’t know what we know now.”

“True.
Hokay. Load HEAT.” Stevenson flipped over to her company command net. “All
Alpha vehicles, we have some new baldricks ahead of us. They look like the
warriors we’ve been whacking to date but these ones are about 40 feet high.
Force count is nine, one of their squads by the look of it. Alpha and Bravo
platoons, we’ll attack them, nothing elaborate, straight at them shooting as we
go. Charlie section, keep your Bradleys here, once we’ve cleared the big guys,
you go straight over the bridge and lay that group of buildings to waste. Don’t
leave anything standing. Then, get back this side and we’ll blow the bridge.
Understood?”

The
acknowledgements came over the radio. Stevenson flipped back to her
intra-vehicle comms. “Right Biker, take us down. And try and keep it smooth,
we’re a long way from home to be wasting ammo.”

Five
thousand meters away, Sanskiworlanaskim was bitterly annoyed at being told to
guard a bridge. Perhaps, guard was the wrong word, control might be a bit
closer. There were rumors that the humans were raiding into Hell itself, their
Iron Chariots ranging over Dysprosium, destroying everything they found. The stories
were incomprehensible, the humans weren’t trying to seize anything, they just
came, destroyed and left. The accounts had to be those of terrified refugees,
some of a steadily increasing stream that were coming back from the settlements
on Dysprosium. That was why his unit, a part of Satan’s own private guard, were
here on this bridge. The last thing His Infernal Majesty needed at this point
was to have a load of cowardly refugees spreading their panic-stricken stories
across Hell. His orders were quite clear, turn them back and if they wouldn’t
go back, kill them.

“Turn
Out The Guard!” the cry jarred Sanskiworlanaskim out of his reverie. He took an
appalled look across the ground, there were eight clouds of dust moving towards
the bridge. For a brief second he thought they were more groups of refugees but
that didn’t last for more than a second. At the foot of the cloud, moving
terrifyingly fast, were the squat shapes of Iron Chariots, the odd rectangular
shape on top already swinging in his direction. Then, another cloud of dust, an
odd one like a ball in front of the Chariot, and a red streak leaping out
towards where the bridge guard was waiting. Sanskiworlanaskim saw it hit one of
the guardsman square in the chest, rocking him back on his feet as an orange
fireball erupted in front of him.

This
was unthinkable, His Infernal Majesties own guard under attack? This was just
not permitted, to disobey one of the Guard, let alone attack them was
punishable by the most horrible death Satan could imagine. Sanskiworlanaskim
admitted to himself that Satan really did have a vivid imagination in such
things. In the brief second that the reflection had taken, the stricken
guardsman had dropped to his knees, purple blood pouring from the gaping hole
burned deep into his chest. More fire-lances struck around them, the ground
erupting where they impacted. The humans were missing? The whispered rumors
from the destruction of Abigor’s Army were that the human fire lances never
missed. Or was that the Seeker Lances? Or both.

Then,
a burning, agonizing pain in his leg. Sanskiworlanaskim looked down, the wound
was a slight one, just a line slashed through his skin but it burned as if he
was in the lava pits of the depths. Then, he understood, the wound was from a
fire-lance fragment and the fragments were made of iron. Demons and iron didn’t
get along very well. That’s why iron was forbidden in hell, another rule the
humans were too treacherous to obey.

The
Chariots had closed still further so Sanskiworlanaskim dropped to one knee and
aimed his trident carefully. He could feel his body pouring magic into it, felt
the energy surging through him and depositing in the shaft of the trident and
boosting its power up higher. Then, when it could hold no more, he pushed the
haft forward so that it made contact with the copper core of the weapon and the
magic discharged in a brilliant lightning bolt that left the three tines and
streaked across to hit one of the Iron Chariots.

“Wow,
that smarts.” Stevenson had felt the electric shock in her seat, the tank’s
frontal armor was non-conductive but enough power had leaked through to give
the crew a bad shock. “You guys?”

“I
thought the electric chair had been declared unconstitutional?” Crabs sounded
aggrieved.

“Fire
control computer went down Hooters. Its coming back up now, the Tempest
hardening worked fine.”

Stevenson
nodded to herself and flipped to the Company net. “Anyone else cop a burst like
that?”

“Bravo-Three
Ma’am. We took one as well, lost the fire control and engine control computers
for a second. Back up now, no apparent damage. These guys throw the big bolts.”

“Sure
do, take them down.” There was another crash as her tank’s main gun fired. The
shot was wild, heading over the river to somewhere else. “All vehicles, slow
right down and make aimed shots only.”

In
the guard post by the bridge, Sanskiworlanaskim was trying to understand what
was happening. The post itself had gone, fire lances had hit it and it had
flown apart with the impact, dissolving in the red balls that marked the fire
lance’s anger. Six of the guardsmen were down, their wounds bleeding purple and
stained with copper. That was something else Sanskiworlanaskim could not
understand, how did a fire lance blast copper so deep into its victims. One
thing Sanskiworlanaskim did understand was that he too was dying. A fire lance
had hit him low down in his stomach and he could feel the burned tissue deep
inside him. The copper was inside him as well, he could feel it grinding at his
guts as it turned solid.

Out
front the Iron Chariots had stopped and were standing off, firing their
fire-lances into the wreckage of the bridge. His sight dimming,
Sanskiworlanaskim saw another fire lance coming straight for him. He never got
to see the explosion.

40
minutes later. The Phlegethon Bridge, Dysprosium Highway, Hell

“I
didn’t expect to see you here.”

“We’ve
got new engine filters and there’s an experimental coating on the blades. We’ve
lost a lot of performance but we can fly. Just keep it slow and steady.” The
Osprey pilot looked at his cargo being unloaded. “And don’t overload the bird.”

“So
we’ve got to stay here?” Stevenson’s voice was disbelieving.

“That’s
right. This is the new forward base. You should see Hell-Alpha, there’s work
all over. Even building a runway. Oh yes, Petraeus asked me to give you these.”
Captain Mark Sheppard reached into a pocket and gave Stevenson a small box, one
that contained two gold oak-leaves. “Congratulations Major. The General asked
me to reassure you that as soon as you’re relieved here, you’ll be going back
to our world. I think he has a battalion waiting for you. Now, if you’ll excuse
me, I have to get back to base before the engines seize up.” He looked fondly
at the Osprey. “I surely do love this bird though.”

Overseer
Barracks, Kubelethakka Drift Mine, Tartarus

"We
are done here. Take it away, bring me a fresh one."

The
overseer gave a sharp tug on the brass chain connected to the human's collar,
jerking the still slightly dazed creature off its feet. Lakheenahuknaasi sighed.
She had long since ceased to be amused by such petty cruelty, but the lesser
demons never seemed to tire of it. Still, it might be uncreative, but every
little torment contributed to keeping the humans bleeding out precious
spiritual energy. Euryale's quotas were strict though and she wasn't going to
let this simpleton make her miss it.

"Now!"
Lakheenahuknaasi hissed, baring her black poison-tentacles at the overseer, who
grudgingly stopped kicking the fallen man and backed off. The human managed to
regain its footing, only lightly gashed by the rocky floor, and was quickly
dragged away. Within seconds a new human was shoved into her niche. This one
had skin the color of sulfur. After a few centuries in hell it took a lot to
scare a typical human, but Lakheenahuknaasi's stare was enough to reduce most
to gibbering. It wasn't so much her bronze-scaled face or slitted golden pupils
as the writhing cloud of black and red tentacles that surrounded her head, each
tipped by four spines and a single unblinking eye. This particular specimen was
kept whispering "Yato-no-kami, Yato-no-kami!", whatever that meant.

Six
ought to do it Lakheenahuknaasi thought, gauging the human's body mass. A pair
of the red tentacles idly trained themselves on the prey, and with a wet
crackling noise a flurry of spines leapt from their tips to embed themselves in
the man's shoulders. He screamed and writhed, futilely seeking some means of
escape. The venom worked quickly however and in less than a minute his
struggles had subsided into docility.

She
shifted back on her haunches, considering what history to give this one.
"What is your name?"

"Hijikata
Katamori"

"You
lived in Tokyo. It held for many weeks but it was eventually reduced by the
legions of Merafawlazes."

"No,
I lived... wait... the forces of Yomi assaulted Edo? What became of Shogun
Ieharu?"

"All
the humans were slaughtered. Their defiance bought them only ruin. Their iron
chariots killed many demons but they could not save them in the end."

"Iron
chariots?" asked Katamori, "That sounds impractical."

Lakheenahuknaasi
slapped the human roughly across the face. Her claws left deep scratches on the
man's cheek. "Listen carefully. You watched the fire throwers on the city
walls kill many of our cavalry, but once they revealed themselves they were
destroyed by our fliers. You ran from the walls as they were scaled by our
infantry. The lightning from their tridents cut down humans to your left, to
your right, but you found shelter."

Katamori
was nodding vaguely, beginning to get into the fantasy. "I hid behind an
overturned cart. The lightning set it on fire."

"You
tried to hide but it was hopeless."

"We
hid in the ruins but they had magic that could track us unfailingly!"
Katamori could see the scene vividly in his mind.

"You
were caught and executed."

"They
ate the children, as if they were delicacies! For a moment I thought I had been
spared, but then flying beasts swooped down and set the whole city aflame! One
passed over me... and... I was burned alive..." he sobbed.

And
that's enough of that thought Lakheenahuknaasi. This one must be a peasant that
he knows nothing of the iron chariots, probably died in a house fire, no sense
wasting more time on him. Now for the finishing touch...

This
time it was a black tentacle that loosed a pair of spines, which bored straight
into the human's neck. Again the man reeled, trying to scream but this time no
sound would come. Euryale had discovered this particular technique and
instructed all the gorgons in its use; a moderate dose of poison delivered
directly to the brain would scramble the human's memories just enough to
imitate a fresh arrival, which were almost always slightly crazed. As a side
benefit it tended to hide the flaws in their stories.

Lakheenahuknaasi's
forked tongue flicked out and licked the traces of blood from her claws.
"This one is done. Next!"

Base
Camp, Outer Ring, Seventh Circle of Hell

McElroy
was running the handcrank on the universal charger when kitten's voice
penetrated his thoughts. Corporal McElroy, are you there? May we speak now?

Sure
thing, my dear. McElroy smiled, despite himself. How've you been? Are they
treatin' you OK?

I'm
fine, and I've been treated very well.

Well,
that's great to hear. McElroy stopped charging and lifted the lid on the
laptop. It was a military-grade device, built to withstand just about anything
you'd expect in a hostile environment. It booted to life quickly. Shall we get
down to business?

Yes,
please.

McElroy
went over his notes. This appears to be a rural region of Hell. Based on the
information contained in the laptop here, it'd be extremely difficult to hook
up with any of the current cells of the PFLH. I've observed no geographical
features or landmarks that match anything described or photographed by those
cells. I have been photographing my surroundings and attempting to map my
location, though I never was much for computers.

kitten
was quiet for a moment. Acknowledged. Four your information, you are now the
Hell’s People’s Liberation Front. Have you established a safe base of
operations?

Affirmative.
We've taken up residence in a cave which is deep in a forest. If the colors
weren't all wrong, I'd say we were up in the Catskills or somethin'. Looks like
the divider between two circles.